Right Kind of Wrong(41)

Goddamn it.

“He was asking a lot of questions this evening,” Alec continues, casually. “Probing questions.”

Shit. Samson was probably asking around about Drew. The dumbass doesn’t know any better, but sniffing around a bar like this—a bar with business outside of just booze—can get a guy killed. It usually does.

I choose my next words carefully. “Samson’s intentions were innocent, Alec. He wasn’t trying to pry into your business shit. I promise.”

“Do you know”—Alec takes another slow drag of his cigarette—“that you’re the only person in this…”—he lets out another slow exhale as he gestures around—“industry… whose promises mean anything to me?”

I say nothing.

“And because of that, I have a tendency to trust you.” He nods again at his gunmen and they lower their weapons. Alec looks up at me from his seat at the table with a sharp warning in his eyes. “Don’t make me regret it, Jack.” He stubs out his cigarette, eyes never leaving mine. “I’m serious.”

Relief floods my veins and fills my lungs, but holy hell. How am I going to explain all this to Jenna?

Nodding once, I let out a rough exhale. “Are we done here?”

Alec inhales. “I suppose so.” He flicks a hand at the dealer and they return to their card game.

Wasting no time, I race toward my brother, directing Jenna along beside me by the small of her back. Samson is several yards behind the poker table, and when we reach him, his head lolls to the side and his hair—the same almost-black shade as mine but slightly shorter and wavier—flops into his bloodshot green eyes as he stares up at me.

“Heh, bro,” he slurs. “Please don’t punch me.”

I hoist him up from the floor and steady his body against mine. He might be my little brother, but he’s only an inch shorter and nearly as muscular as I am, so hauling his weight up is no small task.

“You better figure out how to walk on your own, Sam.” I prop him upright beside me. “Or I will punch you.”

Samson rolls his head in a pathetic attempt to nod. “That seems fair.”

Jenna steps to Samson’s other side and helps steady him until he’s on his feet. He’s wobbling like a newborn lamb, but standing nonetheless. I point to an exit door in the far corner, where I know just beyond is almost exactly where I parked, and Jenna nods.

“It was good to see you again, Jack,” Alec says without looking back at me. “Perhaps we’ll meet again soon…”

I try to ignore the sick feeling his words bring to my gut and focus on keeping Samson upright as Jenna and I direct him toward the exit door. Then, pushing it open with more force than necessary, I lead the lamb and gazelle out of the lions’ den and into the parking lot.

I unlock the doors of Jenna’s car, stuff Samson in the backseat, and slam the door before climbing into the front. Jenna gets in without a word and clicks her seat belt into place.

She glances at me, fear in her expression, a worry line between her brows, and an angry fleck in her eyes. I’ve got nothing to say to her, though. Not yet.

Throwing the car in gear, I drive away and wait until there’s a few miles between us and the bar before pinning Samson with my eyes in the rearview mirror and biting out, “What the fuck, Sam?”

He rubs both hands down his face and groans. “I know, Jack.”

“No, you don’t know. You could have gotten yourself killed back there! Or worse.”

My eyes flit to Jenna and guilt wrings my stomach. She’s probably terrified.

“I’m sorry. But it’s bad.” He shakes his head. “It’s so bad.”

“You’re damn right, it’s bad.” I flex my jaw. “You can’t just poke around Alec’s business, Sam! The guy thought you were trying to spy on him or some shit. Just because he’s not your enemy does not mean he’s your friend. Understand?” I grimace, my nerves fried from the nonstop adrenaline spiking my veins during that whole encounter. “And what the hell is up with you getting wasted? You’re twenty-one, man. Not fifteen. I shouldn’t be dragging your ass out of bars.”

Samson just keeps shaking his head. “No, Jack. I mean this thing with Drew is bad.”

“No shit.” I purse my lips. “But getting trashed certainly isn’t going to make it better.”

“No, man. You don’t understand,” he says, slurring a bit as he hangs his face between the front seats, seemingly oblivious to Jenna’s presence. “I got a call tonight. From one of the Royals. They…” His voice cracks. “They put a bounty out on Drew.”